A/N

This part one of an installment for a brainchild I thought would be fun. Not sure on how many installments there will be in total. I understand we're on a bit of a cliff with Fae's main story, so to explain: you are getting this instead because between work, school and other commitments, I have very little free time. And what free time I do have, Tears of the Kingdom has by the throat.

Also to let you all know: I anticipate there being another two parts of finish off the Celestial Party arc, one of which is finish and the other is in process of being written. And after the arc is complete, all stories will be going on a brief hiatus to get a backlog up of Grand Magic Games content. My ideal timeline is about six weeks.

Thanks for sticking with us! Now on to the crossover.

The Day is Crack

Morgana's warning was lifesaving. I woke up instantly. The first thing I registered was a crap ton of ambient power. The closest thing I could associate it with was Charm Magic. A subtle touch on the mind to bend and give way. To be susceptible to persuasion.

This didn't have any subtlety though. Just a staggering amount of power. I tightened my mental defense against it even as I looked around blearily. And I spotted a timer that had mere seconds left on it.

What is the timer for?!

Counting down until the portal opens. Brace yourself.

But if I end up through there, in a world without magic-!

There is magic in this world. The transition will not be easy, but it will be survivable.

I had limited time to move. And all of the current patterns of events showed falling into this thing was going to happen whether I liked it or not. So I had to make it count. I grabbed my lacrima pen and rune syllabary which were laying by my bed. I was lunging blindly for my bracers, having been left on my dresser when the timer hit zero and a blue portal opened with a bang. The tip of my finger touched the magical armwear when I was jerked off my feet and sucked backwards into the vortex of light.

The worst possible timing to come to Earth would be during an alien invasion.

Now, the invasion itself hadn't happened yet. But it was pending.

Simply by being the first thing that the Tesserect spat out, I was in a heap of trouble.

The transition wasn't exactly graceful.

I landed on an unforgiving ground and rolled with a yelp of pain. And Morgana instantly blared a warning that our surroundings were dangerous. I tucked into a ball, trying to process the swamp of new information I was surrounded by.

OK, that...that really hurts!

Information download commencing-

You said so yourself it isn't safe. Can we put it off?

It is dangerous. But they will not harm us and we need knowledge.

Who's they?

"Identify yourself!"

I rolled and groaned, trying to respond. But my head was ringing like a bell and wasn't stabilizing the way it usually did. I wondered why for a second before I noticed the air.

It was still. Dark. Empty save for a few precious particles of the familiar power that were quickly pulled into my body.

Then that was it.

I had been brought somewhere without ethernano. There was magic, or the potential for it, but no ethernano.

I didn't hear much else of what was said by the people coming closer because I was panicking.

-vVv-

"Barton! Do you have eyes on the hostile!"

Clint Barton was a father, so when he saw a young girl on the cold ground, scraped up and bleeding, his first instinct was to check she was alright rather than if she was dangerous. The minor inhuman details of green hair and glowing blue eyes were not as important.

"Non-hostile! It's a child, stand down!"

It sounded like she was having trouble breathing and was twitching weakly. She was in no way a threat. He holstered his gun and hurried over, turning her on her side in case this was a seizure.

"Hey. Kid can you hear me?"

Her face was pale and streaked with soot and she was clutching what looked like a tablet and a pen of some kind. Her eyes were haunting though. The brightest, clearest blue he had ever seen focused on him and Clint felt himself aching at the terror he saw there. He adjusted his tone instantly.

"Hey, honey. My name's Clint, can you understand me?"

She nodded jerkily, tears in her eyes.

Thank goodness.

"Alright, breathe with me. In through your nose and out through your teeth. Let's do this."

Clint would worry about the fact that he was handling an alien life form later. Right now there was a frightened, hurt little girl who had been launched from the other end of space and looked like she was in her pajamas. So he held her and rocked her, talking her through some deep breathing even as back up came into the room. Dr Selvig was fussing around his instruments, trying to see if the current activity of the Tesseract was the cause or effect of their visitor.

"Barton! The Tesserect's energy levels are rising. They're going to announce a general evacuation!"

The head researcher called the warning. Which meant getting everyone out. Including the girl, who didn't seem quite capable of moving just yet. The archer flicked on his com.

"I'm gonna need a stretcher.

The girls hands, small but strong, clutched his arm and her eyes fixed on him.

"Don't let him get close." She said, coughing and struggling to keep breathing. "The one who's coming later. Don't let him-"

"Shh, it's Ok." He let himself run a hand over her hair gently. It was soft and fell in springy waves even under the grime. Her trip looked like it had been an unpleasant one and she couldn't be more than 13 or 14. He resolved to check on her once they had finished evacuating.

-vVv-

I wasn't tied up when I woke up. Which was a big plus.

Sit rep.

Pen and syllabary are removed from our person and are being examined. We are aboard the Helicarrier. It has not yet gone airborne.

That made my eyes open.

Come again?

The room looked sterile and clean. Big enough to not feel like a prison, but I was alone in it. And that itself was telling. I told myself it could be because they were worried about foreign contaminants from my unknown world. And I almost believed it...but I could literally feel the armed guards watching me.

When- at what point in the Timeline are we? And which one are we in? One of the comics? The Cinematic Universe?

Because depending on which one I was in, would make me more or less concerned about some of those observers.

MCU. Not the primary Timeline as that would not allow for outside interference or variables such as us, but a very close mirror.

And our setting?

Opening scene of the movie 'Avengers'.

But that didn't help my blood pressure. Especially remembering that right now a lot of the current SHIELD staff was corrupted by Hydra. That meant only a few people were trustworthy, sight unseen. Hopefully this parallel universe was close enough to the Primary timeline that my information about who could be trusted was still accurate.

And one of the people on my short list was about to get possessed. Or already had been possessed.

That was Hawkeye who got to me first, right? Clint Barton?

That is correct.

He's already been possessed?

Yes.

I would need to be very, very careful about magic use until I had a way to give myself a boost in power again. The fact that the MCU supported magic meant I hadn't seized and died instantly, but their magical energy wasn't nearly as efficient a fuel source for my magic power. My body was needing to work harder to generate the energy I normally could inhale. It meant I would need a much longer recovery time unless I found an energy source that was compatible with ethernano.

Bottom line: any and all magic save my natural passive abilities would be a hard no until I got my pen and syllabary back. I wouldn't dare do anything until I had those foci back. Back home, I could get away with spells without them, but here...

The door opened with a small click and a hiss and a woman in a white lab coat entered. Her short red hair was pulled back into a bun and she wore glasses that gave her a friendly librarian look.

It was Natasha Romonoff.

Ah, coming to see if I'm a threat or not.

"Glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Despite knowing she didn't trust, like or know me, I felt at ease. Black Widow could be trusted in most circumstances to not be Hydra. Morgana confirmed this with a soft affirming pulse.

"Scared." I said, going for obliquely honest, shifting into a seated position. "Where am I? And who are you?"

"My name is Natasha. You are in SHEILD's medical center. What's your name?"

She didn't know it, but she was giving me an opening to establish myself as a non-threat.

"I'm Faerun, or Fae."

"I hear you had a nasty fall when you arrived. You mind if I take a look?" She made a small abortive gesture at me and I nodded.

"Alright, let's have a loot at what's going on up here. There's a small cut that I need to clean and check."

Natasha telegraphed almost every move she was making, where she was looking and what she was looking for. She naturally was observing everything, but the steady stream of words in a soothing tone was relaxing. Under her instruction, I lifted my arms, moved my fingers, turned my head and wiggled my toes to demonstrate my range of motion, etc. She was taking my temperature when her brows ticked slightly.

"You're a good temperature for a human living on Earth. Is that comparable for you?" She showed me the thermometer and the characters reordered themselves before my eyes to let me read them.

"Yeah, that's in the normal range. But...what did you say? 'Earth'? You you mean *********?"

I tried to say Earthland here and the word came across as completely different than what I had tried to say. I tentatively touched my mouth, trying to sense if there was a lingering hex or curse that was hindering my speech. But I felt nothing. My surprise could not be hidden and I was sure she was tracking every microexpression I was making, putting together a mental dossier on me. Seeing if I was a threat like the other 'visitor' Earth had gotten through the Tesseract.

"What was that?"

"I have no idea. I was just trying to say my home's name, it sounds similar to yours..."

I tentatively tried to say 'Earthland' again but it came out garbled again. Natasha was watching and waiting patiently, and hadn't made any moves towards the gun which Morgana told me she was packing. Which I considered a big plus.

Maybe the intonation is making it weird?

"Earth. Land." I broke the words up, and they came out sounding right. Then I put them together again and they were scrambled again.

I glanced around the room curiously.

"There's nothing that's auto-translating what I'm saying is there?" There was a function like that back home. I would know. I helped write it.

Natasha gave a tiny smile, not real, and shook her head.

"Nothing that you didn't bring with you."

I looked around the room then.

"I was asleep. I only had time to grab my syllabry and my pen, but I don't see them here. And they wouldn't be able to do that."

Perception shifting. She is seeing you more as a child rather than a threat such as Loki.

Yay, progress!

"You were trying to say your worlds name?"

"We call it ***********" Again the name of my home world came out ringing strangely and unrecognizable. I exerted effort to break the words apart and thy came out clearly.

"Earth. Land. That is weird..."

"You are from 'Earthland'?"

And the way Natasha said it gave me a clue as to what was going on.

I was from a different world. A different dimension. There should be as much common ground between Earth English and the dominant commonly spoken language that I used as the matter from two different galaxies.

But all language was itself a story. A deeply complicated one, but a story nonetheless. I had never encountered a written text that I couldn't decipher even if it was in another language or using a different alphabet. Hence the numbers on the thermometer sorting themselves out when I looked at them.

So why have I never considered how this could be applied to spoken words?

I did. I am tapping this world's included All-speech function from Asgardian and Vanir culture to allow for communication. Otherwise, there would be no understandable exchange at all.

I gave Morgana a mental hug and celebrated when she returned the gesture with a small, affectionate nudge. She was doing so well with emotions!

"Close enough." I responded with a sheepish smile. "I understand what you mean when you say that, even though it doesn't sound completely right. And while I know what a shield is, it sounds like you're using the word as a name for something."

"I am. It's...sort of like the army. We're protecting our homes from people that want to attack us."

I nodded my understanding, shifting into a cross legged seat. Open, friendly, cheerful, maybe a little bit fragile, showing some of the fear and uncertainty but putting on a brave face. A kid. Not something or someone she needed to worry about in the face of Loki.

Natasha picked up a tablet from a nearby table and tapped a few times before turning it towards me. On it was a picture of Clint.

"Fae, do you recognize this man?"

This woman's acting...mad skillz. no wonder she could fool Loki.

If I didn't already know how invested she was, because this was Clint, there was no way I would read anything but a medical professional's carefully crafted persona to interact with children on her face.

"He was there just after that portal spat me out." I gingerly touched some of the bruises I had gotten from my ungainly tumble across the floor. "He helped me stop hyperventilating."

The Black Widow didn't even bat an eye. She swiped again. This time there was a picture of Loki. The kind you got from a body camera. It was not great quality but he was recognizable.

"What about him?"

I leaned in for a closer, as the image was not as clear as Clint's mugshot and I was not supposed to have prior knowledge to be able to recognize him. I took a second to scrutinize the picture and think of what I wanted to do...

I guess I'll be honest. The truth will be stranger than any lie I can tell.

"I don't think I saw him there."

Another tap of a well kept nail against the screen.

My own voice sounded, recorded from Clint's com most likely.

"Don't let him get close."

The crackles and jerks in the electronically recorded audio were strange. Though I supposed I was spoiled since lacrima recording could transmit and incredibly clear, clean sound.

"Do you remember saying this?"

"Vaguely."

I felt this conversation was better suited to an interrogation room, and I was actually darkly impressed that they hadn't put me in one. Then again, considering how they tried to handle Steve Rogers waking up after his sub-zero induced coma, maybe I shouldn't have been.

"Who were you talking about?"

This was what she really wanted to know. She was trying to find a connection between me and Loki. And there wasn't one...but telling them about psychometry, Story Magic, and the fact that I knew general upcoming events probably would be a bad idea. But they already had a hunch that I had had some foreknowledge, given my hastily gasped warning. Which apparently had been heard but not heeded.

Gana, you said there was a Crack, and I need some of that energy right about now...!

Under the Black Widow's gaze, I felt very small and easily picked apart. The Crack, or any place where two worlds who would not normally be in contact, had a subtle effect on people that made them more willing or able to believe the impossible. To discard the unusual or bizarre. It felt like her skill and life experience was negating that however.

The Crack is not exactly at our beck and call.

"Can I see the other guy again? The second one?"

Natasha obliged me, swiping back to Loki's picture. I scooted forward reaching out and touching the image.

It is exactly what you unconsciously knew. You were babbling to Hawkeye to not let Loki get too close to try and warn him.

"I think I was talking about him."

"You think?"

I looked up at her, now letting a bit of the hesitance show. The energy I had felt when traversing the portal...

"I didn't see anything. But I could feel that there was some kind of psychic presence in my room before I was pulled through. ***** ***** is-. Oh not again."

You cannot tell me that 'charm magic' is not a thing here. They've got all kinds of mind whack juju floating around!

Perhaps, but not in the same context that you use it, thus All-speech cannot correctly translate it at your skill level with this spell, nor with your available magic power.

"It's alright, Fae. Just take it slow."

Natasha prompted me. And I could sense that her spy-face, had thinned somewhat.

She knows what struggling with a language barrier is like.

"Charm. *****? Nope..."

I searched for words to work around the All-speech limitations.

"Like, someone can get inside your head and make you do things even if you don't want to? And not, like they're breaking you over a long time. Just a look, or a touch and you're doing whatever they want, because you are completely convinced it's good and right."

"Mind control." Natasha mused softly, the spy face back on. I dithered slightly making a so-so gesture.

"Not exactly, that's puppeting someone against their will. What I mean is more like...suggestion. Changing how a person sees the world in such a way that they do what you want. Either way, both are outlawed in *****- in my home country." I corrected when the word became mangled once again and continued.

"If you're going to work with... 'energy' then you need to know what 'Mind Control' feels like when it's near you."

The vague term felt cringe and uncomfortable.

"It's a common ability then?"

"Not really, but it's been declared illegal in the last decade just because lets you get away with a lot and people have abused it too much. And because it's illegal and profitable, there is always going to be a market for it. Better that you know what to look for."

I was trying to convey a fairly basic facet of living in Fiore to someone who had no concept of magic as anything more than a story.

Charm Magic was like any controlled substance: a hot commodity in all the wrong circles. And recognizing it was pretty much ingrained in Fioren citizens the same way you tracked if someone carried a weapon, or if they were trying to drug you.

The average person could spot the average Charm Spell. But the really, really good con-men? It took wizards or people kitted out in specialized magical gear to resist the invasive magic enough to catch them. And remain out of their influence long enough to arrest them.

The Mind Stone, my best guess at what I had felt, wasn't a ticket to a skilled user. But when you were dealing with infinite capacity for energy potential, your skill didn't really matter. You could easily pancake someone's mind if you weren't careful. And my task was figuring out a way to convey that to someone who was likely just being introduced to alternative energy and magic.

"When Agent Barton was with you, he noticed you were having what appeared to be a seizure. Is this a regular disorder?"

"I've had one before under different circumstances. I think this time it was just because everything was too different." I wrinkled my nose slightly, feeling goosebumps race down my arms. "Everything...feels different. Smell. Touch. It's not the same."

Telling an agent from an organization that was already looking into alternative energy from very dangerous sources that my world was so overflowing with power it had transformed the native inhabitants to hold some of it...bad idea. So I'd let them figure out ethernano. I wouldn't help them.

They did take a small hair sample, though they do not have the means currently to analyze and identify the foreign elements in it.

There was a small buzz at Natasha's waist.

They even gave her a pager.

She checked the small device with a sigh.

"I've got to go check in some other patients, Fae. Are you hungry?"

Food would be one of the only ways I had of regaining Magic Power and while you could reduce your natural emissions, you couldn't shut them down completely. I nodded, though I wasn't really needing food right then.

"Are you allergic to anything?"

I...don't actually know. Gana?

Project Garden would have discontinued us if we were.

That extremely cheerful thought led me easily into the emotion I wanted to portray now.

"Not anything back home." I said hesitantly, letting myself curl into a slightly more uncertain, fearful position. With my knees up under my chin. "Miss Natasha...can SHIELD send me home?"

Her expression didn't wave, the medical professional mask was back in place.

"I think that if there is a way to grab you from your world, then our people can figure out how to send you back."

It was meant to be comforting, and I tried to act as if it had been. But she knew that as long as the Tesseract remained out of their hands, they wouldn't have the ability to even begin looking into how to get me back to Earthland.

-vVv-

After Natasha left, Morgana informed me that she had given the clear for people to come in and interact with me. Ie: Subtly question me. But they also brought me food, fairly simple, easy stuff that wasn't too hard on the stomach, a few magazines and some scratch paper and soft lead pencils. So I would forgive them for that. Though I was cautious about what I shared. Natasha I may trust, and everything I had shared may well be safe. But if I was still here once the day stopped being Crack, then things were gonna get serious fast.

Or I just die. That is an option too.

I hadn't had time to grab any X-balls or anything to sustain me, so I was with only my internal reserves with just the energy I produced naturally to recharge. Right now, my best asset was knowledge. SHIELD was invested in their own interests, and those interests were not mine. So while I knew that they would be up to the task of combating Loki and the Chitauri invasion, trusting them to get me home wasn't the best outcome for me.

So I focused on the stories of those around me and those who had been near me. Following back to where Natasha's story had briefly intersected with mine. I needed to know more.

"I agree with Agent Barton's initial assessment. She's a non-hostile off-world civilian. The Tesseract appears to have abducted her in the night. She's scared, but not hysterical."

Keeping my face from shifting into a grimace was hard...

Not yet I'm not, but give it a bit.

Agent Romanoff's voice was professional and all business. And she didn't call me by name as she gave her report. Trying to keep an emotional distance.

"All the tests and measurements indicate she has a comparable physical development of a young, healthy female in early adolescence."

I wasn't too hurt by that. How she talked about me. I understood why. using my name humanized me and meant a bigger piece of her died with me if I turned out to be an enemy. But this, plus the sterile, careful way the other medics were treating me, was a little too reminiscent of a time I would much rather leave in the past and forgotten.

I didn't hear her for a bit. Then she was speaking to someone else...

"She called the tablet a syllabry. Did you find any writing on it?"

Then another long period of silence. Morgana confirmed that their researchers had been unable to identify the lacrima of my syllabry, or my pen, as any substance that they knew. And that they had not been able to chip it, though extreme measures had not yet been taken.

So I made sure to ask those who were monitoring me about my possessions, just persistently enough for them so they would know not to damage them. I would need them if I was going to survive. I had already spoken to three deep cover Hydra agents of the five people that had come in and out of my cell. And it was a cell. I had not asked to leave. But I wouldn't have been allowed to even if I did. Not yet.

And the emotional toll was starting to wear on me.

I could have done something if I were imprisoned back home. Wait for backup, think of a plan, plot revenge, something.

Here I was outnumbered and alone.

But they didn't have mind readers. Not yet at least. So I could do some planning at least.

How long will the Crack remain open?

Eight days, four hours and thirty minutes.

Alright how does that match up with the Primary Timeline's series of events?

-vVv-

I was reasonably confident about one thing: My best bet at getting more ethernano, or getting in touch with the local magic source, was getting to the New York Sanctum. And I knew that within the next day or day and a half, there would be a quinjet heading for New York. So I wanted to find a way to get out of observation, and onto that aircraft, without needing to go out guns blazing, so to speak.

So that meant I needed to get time out of this room so I could plot my route. So began my campaign of psychological and emotional warfare.

I had appealed to one of the workers if there was some place I could go and get some fresh air. Or at least some exercise since I felt very cramped in the room. (Not even a lie.)

"We're going to have to keep you for observation a little longer, kiddo. Sorry."

I got this as a response and sundry variations whenever I asked for anything that would take me out of confinement. And I asked repeatedly, just enough to keep it present in their minds, but not so much that it was obnoxious. I would shrug, and brush off the refusal every time, but continue to engage and chat with them. I learned their names, their favorite foods and hobbies. I shared some funny stories about Fairy Tail, referring to them as my foster family. And I made myself as real a person to them as I possibly could. And asked questions about how this all worked. The lights, the automatic doors, how common the technology was, how long it had been around. Things that someone who had never seen practically used electricity before would ask.

Guilt was a powerful tool. The more they had to say no to me for basic requests like this, the more they would be inclined to give me some small concession back. I was intending to work up to requesting my pen and syllabary. This would probably only work once they eventually got curious enough to want to know what I did with it. At which time, I would tell them quite honestly: That I just wanted to write on to stave off boredom. Of course, this strategy would work best in a long term setting. But the Crack was in my favor for this. This was originally a movie, and a lot of development was stuffed into a comparatively short span of time.

Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner will board the Helicarrier in under an hour.

Without the wonders of movie magic, there was very little way of knowing where I was in the general scheme of things. But Morgana was keeping watch for useful landmarks.

As I sat and scribbled, I had been hunting for my possessions and I know knew where they were being kept. They were actually in the same lab where the all important dialogue and about tension and stress would take place, once the players were all assembled. They were being held for Dr Banner to examine to try and determine if they would be of any help in locating Loki and the Tesseract. They had found residual trace energy from our travel through the depths of space.

Maybe I'll get to meet him if he comes to do an exam on me. I must have the same traces.

I dismissed the thought then. SHIELD knew better than to show Dr Banner, who was already very, very touchy about being trapped, someone who was being functionally held prisoner. Not when they knew his trigger was strong emotion.

But then again...the day was Crack. And since my first encounter with days like this was with Prisoner Zero, that didn't always mean things were light hearted and funny the whole time. Just that certain parts of it wouldn't ever make sense.

I felt more than I heard a faint buzz from a communications piece worn by the nurse, Camile, who appeared to have been made in charge of my care. She paused and listened...her brows shot up then.

"...Yes sir."

I looked up from where I was drawing as accurate a representation of Sting's father, Weisslogia as I could when she turned towards me.

"Hey Fae, up for a field trip?"

Camile gave me a small smile with her eyes twinkling. Happy at being able to allow me to get out when I had shown that I wanted to.

"If it's outside of this room, that is an absolute yes." I replied pertly. "As long as I don't need shoes."

"I think we actually found some for you that might fit."

I whooped and hopped off the bed, hair bouncing in the loose braid Camile had placed it in. (She figured it would be a way to bond, and calm me. And she had been right. Her two kids were very lucky to have a mom like her.) She swiped the door with her ID badge to open it and lead me out of my confinement.

Being the only minor aboard the Helicarrier meant I was physically the smallest person there. Since my pajamas were kinda roughed up by the journey through the Crack, I had needed replacements. I was rocking SHIELD standard issue sweatpants and a T-shirt that were about two sizes too big. But shoes hadn't been easy to find so I made due with the hospital anti-slip socks. The Helicarrier wasn't meant to be comfortable, so there was no carpet and I was grateful for the traction and the barrier between me and the cold floor.

Being that I was a sock wearing child with long sea-green hair, I stood out pretty definitely against the somber gray and black of SHIELD's soon to be flying HQ. The large viewing panels would have shown a fantastic view had we been airborne. But that wasn't why I was here. I was here because there was a large dark man with an eye patch awaiting me.

"Faerun, you're looking a lot better than when I last saw you."

"I infer that you did so when I was unconscious." I said, unable to withhold the quip. It was how I coped with stress and I think he understood that even if he didn't appreciate it as much as others did.

"Indeed." Fury swiped a hand over a screen, gazing out into the water that the main room was currently submerged in. The Helicarrier was floating at the moment, not airborne, so there was a striking view of the upper layer of the sea to be seen. It made the room look ethereal and dream like, with the sunlight passing through the water. Camile led me to the conference table

"So I never got the chance to learn your name." Camile was silently pleading for me to not get too smart with the man. But I figured if he wanted to keep me locked in a room and only let me out when he said so, he could deal with a little sass. It was by far the least dangerous thing I could have been throwing at him.

"Nicolas Fury. Director of SHIELD." I nodded, meeting his one good eye straight on.

"Much as I would like to think otherwise, you allowed me to leave my room for a reason. What do you want from me?"

He appreciates the straightforwardness.

The man had all the facial expression of a stone and I didn't expect to get anything off of him that Morgana didn't tell me first.

"It's my hope that you'll be able to provide some insight on the situation we are currently facing."

I sighed, linking my hands behind my back.

"Which is?"

I know nothing beyond what I can infer from the people I've seen.

Director Fury motioned me over to a table that had a glassy finish, but was actually a screen of sorts. He pulled up some video surveillance of the same long chamber I had arrived on Earth in.

"The portal that brought you here was created by a device known as the Tesseract. It is so far as we know the only thing available to us capable of transporting life from other worlds to ours."

Lie.

I know. He just doesn't want to get into the Bifrost right now and that is fair.

I looked down at the glowing cube, and felt a slight shiver run down my back.

The color of the Tesseract, and by extension the Space Stone, was very, very similar to my eye color. Something which probably had not gone unnoticed by my hosts.

"Natasha said that SHIELD may be able to find a way to send me home."

"We would need the Tesseract in order to do that." I looked over at him, quietly...and decided that showing some 'intuition' would be beneficial in the long run.

"And you don't have it anymore?"

"No. This man, Loki of Asgard, stole it and managed to turn a number of my men into his personal escorts." A black gloved hand tapped the screen and showed another image of Loki. This one a bit clearer, more cleaned up than the one Natasha had had a few hours prior. "I understand that you have some experience with this sort of mind control. Enough to tell when it's present."

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the table, the blue green light from the large, submerged windows sending pretty waves of sunlight across the table.

"At close range, yes."

"And countering it?" I looked over at Fury.

"Are you asking for a debrief right now, or if I can give one?"

"The most important person who needs to hear what he's up against is going to be arriving shortly."

I let tension show, because it would b strange if I were completely relaxed in this situation.

Who do they want me to tell?

Their best bet at someone managing to engage Loki up close and succeed.

The relief that swept over me felt like a warm wave of relief.

Captain America.

Steve. Yes, I would feel very ok with telling this sort of stuff to Steve. He might be in the thick of his most military mindset, just having woken up from the ice a short time ago. But he would at the very least have good intentions. He still might end up trusting the wrong people, but for just this little bit of information right now...I could share that. And share how to snap out of it if needed.

"Is there something I can...read or do until this person gets here then?"

-vVv-

Reason # 412 to not let Shield know that I have psychometry: just sitting here could let me take over the world.

Camile had gotten me a few informational documents about Earth and some other stories. Some of which were familiar, and warmed the cockles of my heart. She had also included a paperback copy of a mystery-romance book that she kept in her personal possessions.

"They're calling me back to the infirmary, but I'll come see you again." She bent and whispered conspiratorially. "See if I can't liven up your room a little while I'm at it."

I wanted to say that that was not necessary, but her kindness and sincerity were beautiful to behold. So I just thanked her, sat at the conference table overlooking the rows of computers and engineering stations, and read.

I downloaded everything that she had given me in a matter of seconds, but I kept 'reading' the first article all the same. It read like a basic synopsis of American history. I really wanted to take some notes on what I was getting...Not just from the reading materials, but from the table, chairs and the currently inactive projector in the table. But given some of the subject matter I was tracking...

I could probably have put Project Insight to shame with pinpointing various loose ends, potential threats and dirty secrets. Everyone that SHIELD was tracking, I could have pointed a finger at them, given you their identifying information, biggest secret, worst insecurity, precise location. Anything you wanted. The table might not be in use right now, and it may not have had the incriminating information on it. But it was hooked into their system and Morgana was all up in their business as I sat slowly reading the book I had been gifted.

Speaking of Project Insight, Morgana had already found traces of that nasty program in this Helicarrier's deepest, darkest systems where Hydra was corrupting their entire structure. Buried underneath so many layers of code it would take years to find it.

You know, unless someone gives Tony Stark a clue about where to look and how to root it out.

Viewing Hydra as a cancer, there was merit to wiping the slate clean and starting over. But that would be a pretty tremendous setback in a scenario where this planet and it's people were stepping into a wider world with bigger guns, stronger enemies and higher stakes. It would take some extensive surgery and cutbacks to turn SHIELD into what it was originally conceptualized as. A protection for the people against the threats too big for others to handle.

Since I had Fury nearby and keeping his one good eye on me as well, I asked for my syllabry and pen back.

"You need them for something?"

"They were gifts from my teachers, and I'd rather not lose them." I hesitantly touched the tablet on the table in front of me. "Our societal technological advancements aren't under as much incentive since we have **********."

His brow rose.

"Didn't quite catch that."

Time to put in another emphasis on being from another planet. Having Thor here would help sell the cover, but he'll show up later, So it's fine.

I paused for a second, picking some other words to help convey what I wanted to say without outright telling Fury that my home had functionally endless supplies of harvestable energy. I did not want another Faust to get a bright idea about using my home and people as living batteries.

"Uh, we use ********* the same way you use...'small lightning'?"

"Electricity." Fury said with a neutral expression. "I'll see to it that your belongings are brought to you."

He wants to observe how they work since their researchers couldn't get any reactions from them. Having them in view of a scientists such as Banner will likely intrigue him and get someone significantly smarter invested in figuring out how it works.

Which meant writing in the air was going to be a hard no for the time being. It seemed better to just act as if the syllabry and the pen were the same as a tablet and stylus.

When Fury gave the word, people hopped to it. People brought me syllabry at the same time as my shoes.

To see what I'll take first or something.

I didn't care what they concluded by the fact that I secured my belongings, after verifying that everything that they had done to them had not damaged them or hindered their purpose, before stepping into and lacing up the boots. They were a little roomy in the toe, not meant for someone my size. But it was better than nothing.

Ok, now if I need to run, I at least won't be barefoot. Though I will probably need to short out that little tracking device.

Paranoia, thy name is Director Fury.

Conscious of many interested eyes watching me, I just picked up my pen and started treating my syllabary as if it were a piece of paper. Writing in quick, effortless strokes. The writing system was not one that they had, but I didn't doubt they already had someone looking at what I had scribbled back in my room to try and pick out a discernible meaning.

I hadn't done this for more than an hour when one of the techs called up that I would want to brace myself.

We're going airborne.

"You don't get airsick, do you?"

Fury inquired, as if he actually would be bothered if I did.

"I never have before. Is this an *******? 'Ship that can traverse air'? That is awful..."

Trying to say airship was impossible but the easiest solution was making me cringe.

"It's a carrier." The imposing man said simply. "Think of it as an exceptionally large ship meant to be a mobile base of operations. Airplanes and jets come here to roost instead of going back to land."

This was more information than I thought I would get. So I rose, bringing my syllabry and pen with me and walked forward as the engineers ran through the long, long list of safety checks. My gaze swept across the room.

You skipped a step on the safety check. You have repeated three steps. You have gum stuck on your shoe. Gross. And...where are you...?

I couldn't fight back a small smile when I found who I was searching for.

You...are the one who has Gallaga on their workstation. You're not playing it yet, but I know...And you're not even Hydra! That makes me happy.

Morgana drew my attention to another man on the bridge and I hid a smile.

And you have Tetris on your station.

So I stood quietly and watched, gripping the railing as the impossible aircraft rose from the sea. The water fell away quickly from the viewing area, getting further and further away. It was not an entirely smooth rise. The sea and gravity were rarely willing to let go of things that they held onto. But it took a breathtakingly short time to reach their cruising altitude. Now suspended thousands of feet above sea level, knowing that it was going to crash and burn, or at least come very close in the next day or so, I turned my attention towards the three Stories coming closer.

One of them I already knew from our meeting. But the other two...well, I knew them from second hand knowledge.

"I got red in my ledger."

"That's my secret, Captain."

"I can do this all day."

I waited then to meet the first few members of the people this world would come to know as the Avengers.